


Bubble Bath

by bellafeir



Series: FeirShots (dreamnotfound oneshots) [7]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Bubble Bath, Bubbles - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Edging, Fluff and Smut, Flustered GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Hot Sex, Lap Sex, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Porn With Plot, Slow Sex, Soft Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), ish, worthy of your time i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28872090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafeir/pseuds/bellafeir
Summary: When Dream and George decide to take a bath, things get a little spicy.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: FeirShots (dreamnotfound oneshots) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082114
Comments: 8
Kudos: 707





	Bubble Bath

**Author's Note:**

> do not repost my work.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Dream speaks from behind George, his arms wrapped around the smaller boy in the warm, soapy water.

Dream cradles him and holds him tight, placing kisses on the back of George's neck every so often. George's pale, much skinnier arms rest over Dream's larger ones, covering Dream's folded embrace that keeps them tight, close together in the steamy tub. They would probably be sweaty and gross from the temperature if it weren't for the fresh water and glistening suds submerging their bodies, playing with their heads. The waves of heat that hover in the air make both boys drowsy, their minds processing, almost as if they are even just slightly intoxicated from the steam that fills their lavish bathroom. As Dream's chest rises, George's lifts as well, breaths synchronized just like their hearts.

George leans his head back, so that his mouth brushes against Dream's ear, "I love you, Dream."

The blush that blossoms into Dream's cheeks is undeniably affectionate, fueled not from the fever of the water, but by his indisputable tenderness for the pretty boy laying, pressing closer, back into him. He never wants to leave.

George returns his head to his foreword positioning, smirking at his rare and daring remark, the words so scarce at the beginning of their relationship that every time they leave his lips, it's like a siren's song to Dream's ears, pulling him in, making him fall deeper and deeper each time.

"I love you too, George." Dream smiles. He feels selfish. He gets to have all of George... all to himself. Nothing can compare to the moments they share; the deep root of their friendship beneath it all spread and evolved into what they are now.

Dream doesn't mind being selfish, though. In fact, he revels in it, gently bringing his head forward and tilting his chin down, just to brush his lips, feather-light, against the backside of George's left shoulder. George lets out a faint sigh, pleased with Dream as he leisurely graces them up the side of George's neck, sending wonderful tingly sensations through George's upper body and down into his lower abdomen.

Dream slowly unclasps his hands from their hold around George's chest and gently places them on his sides, running them up and down, in and out of the water, making it trickle of his hands and down the sides of George's chest. Dream resumes his carefully placed kisses on George's neck, starting light, just like he did with the teasing of his lips. George tips his chin back slightly, a calm satisfaction that brings him to be more relaxed, letting himself and his consciousness wander.

Dream moved his hands, still on either side of George, so that his right rests on George's stomach, and his left slides in-between George's torso and arm, to come up, cross George's chest, and cup the smaller boy's cheek, turning his head to face his own.  
He gently bumps their noses together, both of them closing their eyes and melting in the contentment of the moment, everything around them slipping away like they're the only two people in the world, the only two who could ever matter.

The scent of vanilla soap and cinnamon candles hovers in the air. They breathe it in, almost as if they are not two separate beings, but two people so close they could not possibly do anything apart.

After what seems like an eternity, figures still, held at that moment in time, Dream finally connects their lips. It's plain... and sweet... but it's perfect.

They pull apart, George's neck still turned to the side. His expression looks... lost... but in the best way possible. He looks at Dream like one looks at a special treasure, the value out of it out of comprehension. He's a gift to George, a gift that means so much to him, he doesn't know what he could have ever done to deserve it.

Pressing his hand against the bottom of the tub, George sits up for a second readjusting to shift his body so that he's laying comfortably on Dream, on his side.

"You're stabbing me with your boney hip, you idiot." Dream chuckles fondly.

"Shut up," George reply's with a closed-lip smile, and this time, it's George who brings their lips together.

While one of his hands is occupied pressing against Dream's chest to help support his weight, George lifts another to Dream's jaw, delicate and caring. The kiss grows in intensity, George parts his lips, and Dream follows, no longer only pressing their lips together but venturing with tongue as well. Dream hums his satisfaction at Goerge's submission, letting Dream dominate the kiss.

Moving a free hand down to grip George's waist, he slides him off of his own body and onto the floor of the tub next to him. It was good that the tub was huge—a big circular bath resting on the tiled floor. Jets surround the edges, Dream's genius idea to install a few months ago.

As their tounges dance inside George's mouth, Dream sides his hand from Geoge's side, all the way down to the back of his thigh, bending his arm and pulling, so that George's leg rests across Dream's torso.

Dream holds it there.

George feeds his arms between Dream's head and the edge of the tub to latch around the taller boy's neck.

They continue with their lip lock, the tension in the room rising with the heat of their breath. Both boys' hearts beat fast; their attention solely focused on giving everything they have to the other. Dream squeezes the hand on George's leg, earning a slight whimper, muffled by their kiss. Everything starts to become sloppy, their breaths uneven, and their thoughts drifting. The reserve with which they'd kissed before goes from mildly monitored to almost nothing at all.

George lets out a second, much needier whimper as he grinds his hips lightly against Dream in the hot, steamy water.

Dream pulls away abruptly.

"None of that." He says it almost like he's a mother speaking to his child, the same fond but scolding tone. "Remember... we said _just_ a bath."

"But..." George finishes his argument with a frustrated groan. Pouting and looking up at Dream, he tried to convince him with his eyes. He wants more, and he knows Dream knows that.

"Come on, let me wash you a little," Dream smiles. "I'll get your back." He sits up a little, shifting his weight to sit up more in the tub. He really did care for the boy.

George still fixed on his pity-frown, doesn't budge.

"Let me take care of you. It makes me happy," Dream asks right back using his eyes.

George grumbles.

"I know it makes you happy, too..." Dream lowers his voice, teasing George with his sing-song tone.

Finally, George rolls his eyes and sits up, failing to hide the smile that so undoubtedly shows his true colors, shows exactly how much he agrees with Dream's words.

Dream reaches for a washcloth that's draped lazily over the edge of the tub.

"Sit in front of me again," He says to George, opening his legs so George can place himself in between.

George readjusts, plopping himself right where Dream wants, leaning back playfully like Dream is a chair. They both chuckle before George sits up, anticipating Dream's touch. With an acquiescent sigh, George feels Dream's hands run flat, from the small of his back, all the way to his shoulders.

Half massaging and half washing, Dream rubs his love deep into George's skin, hoping George can feel how soft it makes him. Dream reaches for the bottle of body soap on the far rim of the tub and squeezes out a small dollop, the bottle making the wheezing sound that almost empty bottles so often do. Placing the soap back on the side, Dream turns to face George again, who is now watching him, innocence set on his face. He smiles meekly when Dream notices him.

Still partially sitting in Dream's lap and in between his legs, George closes his eyes, relaxing into Dream's hands that return to his back. George is turned outward, facing away from Dream, lax at the golden boy's touch.

"That feels... good," George sighs, his voice grateful and airy.

Dream says nothing but runs his hands from the tops of George's shoulders and down the sides of his arms, lathering George in the foamy soap.

Bubbles are created from Dream's movement, and more and more begin to form around the two boys.

George feels Dream's hands pull themselves away. He's left in pure bliss, head tipped back, a high, closed-lip smile on his expression.

"Turn around," George hears Dream say.

He does, craning his neck over his shoulder to see just what Dream is up to. What he's met with makes a giggle erupt from his lips.

Dream has given himself a bubble beard.

"Do me, do me!" George says with exasperated giggles. He turns around in the tub, Dream's legs still on either side of him, and faces his lover, sitting with his legs crossed.

Laughing along with the boy sat between his legs, Dream scoops up another handful of bubbles and holds it up, away from the surface of the water. Dream laughs uncontrollably when George shoves his chin into his hands, smashing all the bubbles and foam but getting his chin wet in the process.

"No, you have to be _gentle_ , George," Dream chuckles, and George lifts his head back up, his smile telling Dream he was ready for the next one.

"Okay, stay. Lemme do it," Dream cradles another wad of bubbles and lifts them carefully to George's face. He applies them carefully, pressing them to George's chin and then gently pulling his hands away.

George's eyes twinkle as he looks back at Dream with his own matching bubble beard. His cheeks are slightly pink, perfectly complementing his flush lips and pointed nose. Almost unseeable dark auburn freckles dot below his eyes and just on the bridge of his nose, and his small shoulders, skin tone smooth and pale, glisten from the soap of their heated bath.

" _He's perfect_ ," Dream thinks, smiling right back at the brunette boy.

Dream's bubble beard slowly slides down his chin and soon plops into the water, returning to the rest of it's kind.

George lets out a childish laugh, giggling again, and Dream reaches out and pulls him sideways into his chest so that George's head is tucked under Dream's chin and his shoulder is pressed against his Dream's chest. Dream squeezes him tight, and they both erupt into laughter, George now resting, leaning against Dream, warm and content.

Dream holds him tight and slides his back further down the side of the tub and deeper into the steamy water that now goes to Dream's pecks and George's shoulders. George hums a pleased reply to Dream's choice of action, the water making him feel tranquil and comforted, cradled by the taller boy.

George whines when he felt a hand snake around his waist and lightly touch his semi-hard member, still excited from their interaction earlier. A drunken smile washes over his face, and he pulls away from Dream to look at him, eyes half-lidded. "What're you doing..?" He giggles lazily.

Dream wraps his fingers around it.

"Giving you what you wanted earlier," Dream replies, the sonorous words sliding off of his tongue like hot melted butter.

George whimpers when Dream starts to move his hand, slowly jacking him off under the water. For a moment, George gets lost in the moment. His body softens in Dream's cradle, letting the dirty-blonde have control. He sighs again and bites his lip as Dream's speed increases but composes his voice just enough to slide a little sass.

"You're such a _simp_."

The hand stops.

There's silence.

George giggles at his accomplished tease but looks up after a few seconds of stillness, Dream refusing to move his arm, his hand still cupped around George's tip, frozen in place.

George's smile fades, and he bites his lip again, looking down, just wishing Dream would pick back up again.

"Dream please--"

Dream hums, his voice low, "You see, George, if you want what I think you want, so bad..." Dream thrusts his hips up, and because George is laying on top of him, his hips jut upward as well, thereby causing George's member to thrust up into Dream's hand and then come back down again with dream's hips, George, unable to hold in the sharp breath that escapes his lips. "...then you'll be a good boy and fuck up into my hand..." Dream thrust his hips again, causing George to as well, "...won't you."

George's cheeks burned red. It was taking everything in him not to move. Seconds ticked by one by one, and George was going to be stubborn.

"Fine. You have 3 seconds, or we're getting out and drying off right now."

Fuck.

George gave in and thrust upwards by himself, moaning harshly as Dream's cupped fingers ran from the tip, down to around his base, and then back up to the very edge of the tip again.

"That feel good?" Dream speaks quietly into his ear.

George does it again, relishing in how good it feels and how much better it feels when he wants it more. The way Dream holds him-- guiding George's hips with his unoccupied hand, clenching his hand in just the slightest every once in a while to make George's moan just a little louder-- it's intoxicating. He feels Dream's mouth attach to the side of his neck from behind and whines when he feels the all to familiar suction that always seems to find itself all over George's body by the end of the night.

George keeps thrusting up, pleasuring himself with Dream's hand and letting his head fall back and to the side to reveal more unmarked skin, perfectly empty and ready for Dream to mark up. George moans at the thought of Dream's lips all over his body; every inched graced by their touch, every dark spot put there with passion and lust.

Dream moves up George's neck, unlatching his mouth and moving up further to find a much better spot slightly behind his ear, directly on top of his pulse. He sucks till the flesh begins to bruise and continues to help George with a hand on his waist, and the other moving up and down George's dick as he thrusts up into it, matching the smaller boy's rhythm.

Dream can't help it anymore; He's getting hard just from jacking George off. His dick starts to grow needy under George's back, and he lifts his hips up and down. There's only one thing Dream can do: he grinds up against the back of George's ass, keeping with the pattern George is already holding to get himself off in Dream's hand.

"Fuck," Dream moans quietly. It feels good.

George whimpers, turned on by Dream's comment.

Dream moves with George once more, his dick rubbing against George's back while George continues to moan from Dream's other hand. Dream picks up a repetitive pattern, and with every one of George's thrusts, Dream grinds against George's ass.

"Mhh- shit- yes-" George cries. His British accent is heavy and slurred. "Fuck, Dream, that's so good-" He moans, every word getting louder as it exits his mouth.

George's thrusts become more spasmed as he struggles with trying to jut his hips up as fast as possible while still getting weaker and weaker from the pleasure shooting through his spine. He squirms against Dream's dick, distracted by the knot forming in his stomach.

Dream knows he's close, and as much as he would love to let him come, he knows he needs to pull his hand away if he wants to get more out of George than just this.

Without warning, Dream lets his grip go slack, and his hand drops to hold George's hip as he continues to hump the back of George's ass. "Oh, fuck-" Dream releases the suction on his newest mark upon George and groans into the nape of his neck, going faster to try and get more friction.

As one could imagine, George was a mess. His tip was red, desperate for release, and his upper leg muscles burned from propelling his hips forward non-stop for the past 5 minutes. He sat there numb, obviously frustrated that Dream removed his hand. Unfortunately for him, because of his physical tire and the heat from the water making him slow and sedated, he's unable to move and only lets out a small whimper in protest of Dream's most recent actions. 

Dream composes his urges and slows down his own grinding, knowing he needs to last a lot longer if this is to be a memorable night.

"Dream," George pants quietly. He presses the back of his head into Dream and whimpers, lightly thrusting his hips into nothing out of pure reflex.

"Here, lean to the side again," Dream directs George to lay off his left side once more, continuing to lay on the dirty blonde. Dream runs his right hand from George's side, down to his ass, rubbing in circles before squeezing the tender skin.

George lets out another small noise.

"I'm gonna prep you, okay?" Dream asks with a smile, mesmerized by George's beautiful figure.

George nods rapidly. He can always trust Dream. Perhaps that's why he loves him so much. Because no matter what Dream does, whether it's stupid, or scary, or sexual... he can always trust Dream never to hurt him. He can always let down his guard.

George relaxes his tense muscles and presses the side of his head against Dream's bare chest once more. He brings his left fingers to his mouth, a bad habit he often does, and he places his right hand up Dream's chest and over his shoulder.

Dream squeezes his ass one more time before be bring his middle finger to George's hole, easily rubbing over the tight skin. He obviously doesn't need any lube because they're in a bath, so he isn't worried about hurting George too much at all.

He presses the pad of his finger right at George's entrance and pushes in ever so slowly. He waits at his first knuckle to lean down and place a kiss on George's head, lying contently on his chest. Then, he pushes the rest of his finger in and listens to the small noises that leave George as he partially pulls it back out again.

Dream moves it in and out, finding a rhythm and keeping with it, aiming higher just a little bit every time.

"Mhh," George digs his fingernails into Dream's shoulder, not yet hard enough to leave a mark.

Dream continues and uses his unoccupied arm to hold George tighter, pressing a second finder to George's entrance with the other. He lets it sit there, bending against the skin as the other goes in and out.

Soon George is ready. With another muffled noise, George feels the second finger enter along with the first. He brings his upper leg forward, giving Dream better access and letting his stomach lay flat against Dream. He can feel Dream's bulge beneath him. It's good they're in water because otherwise, he would be crushing it.

Dream starts scissoring his fingers, stretching George out even more.

George groans and presses his ass back against Dream's hand, wanting more.

"Don't be so needy. I don't wanna hurt you," Dream says, his tone soft and calming.

George can't help it, "Fuck, please, Dream."

Dream hums in approval of the boy, weak, submissively laying on him. He focuses all his attention on prepping George, everything he does coming from the bottom of his heart. He pumps both fingers in a few times before scissoring some more, and then abruptly adding a third, knowing George does not need for him to hold back anymore.

"Unh..." This comes from the brunette.

George's little moans are driving Dream insane, he almost wants to sit George up, right then and right there, but he halts his thoughts, reminding himself to finish up with George and help him feel as good as he possibly can.

He pushes all three of his fingers in and out rapidly.

George arches his back in reply. "So good..."

George is a slut for Dream's hands- and Dream knows it too.

He aims his hand inside George, looking for that one, very specific spot.

"Unh, fuck- oh shit, Dream- unh," George can't help but be vocal when Dream hits it. His British accent makes the words string together, and his relaxed state makes them slurred. George's legs weaken, and the nails of his hand over Dream's shoulder dig into the taller boy's skin, just like a cat's claws on a satin bedspread.

Dream decides that that's enough prep. He takes out his hands just as George's cock begins to twitch again.

"Fuck- Dream- no- please-" George cries and lifts his chin into Dream's neck to stifle his unhappy noises. George's dick is throbbing, and now that he's been edged twice, it was getting painful. Instead of letting Dream have the satisfaction of hearing him, he decides to put his mouth to better use. Fining a soft spot on the side of Dream's neck, George nips and sucks, trying to leave his small little mark on the person he loves so dearly. His affection is displayed and gratefully taken as he moves onto another spot, and he hears Dream sigh in reaction.

Everything is screaming for George to touch himself and finish what Dream started, but he knows better than to give in that easily.

After successfully leaving three decently light red spots on Dream's collar bone, he kisses each one lightly. Then, he looks up to meet the gaze of the owner to the eyes curiously watching him and doting on him fondly.

Dream bends his head down to George's ear.

"Turn around and sit up in my lap," He whispers into it, quiet, low, and direct.

George almost moans at his tone, catches himself, and then blushes, embarrassed by his own thoughts, despite the reality of what he's currently taking part in with Dream anyway.

Despite his sidetracked brain, he manages to follow Dream instructions without slipping up. He lays back on Dream, legs spread and breath heavy. His ass sits right above Dream's hard as it sticks up, right beneath his ass. Because he's short, his head lays partially next to Dream's and partially back on the top of Dream's shoulder.

George can tell Dream likes the quick access to his pulse because Dream latches on right away, only delaying what is soon to come with silly love bites and his infinite ability to give purple bruises.

Dream reaches down and strokes George's hard once more, using his other hand to lift George's ass and give it a squeeze. He sucks harder with his mouth and bites down a little, making George squirm and whimper on top of him. Pleasuring George's dick is short-lived because Dream ceases helping with George's incline to grab his own member and align it up with George's entrance.

With sensual moans from both boys, Dream sinks deep into George, holding down his hips and bottoming out. His dick twitches inside of George, but he stays still, waiting for George, just in case he needs a minute to adjust, and if not... there's no shame in savoring the moment.

"Fuck- please move, Dream," George bites his lip and clenches the muscles in his ass.

Surprised by the squeeze, Dream moans. "Shit," he pants, "So tight." And with that, he starts thrusting.

Both of Dream's hands hold George's hips, and George's hands have reached up and back to hold onto the edges of the tub above them.

"Oh, fuck, yes, mmmm," George's noises are pornographic.

"You glad I stretched you out good?" Dream's heart races, and he looks at George's eyes, and as awkward as it may be in this position, George looks right back at him, lids hooded.

Dream thrusts his hips faster, or as fast as he can go without water splashing out of the tub.

George doesn't seem to answer Dream's question but tries anyway.

"Unhhh- you fuck me so good, Dream," George clenches his ass again.

"Fuck, oh my god."

Dream's eyes roll back as the muscles around his cock tighten for the second time that night, and all he can think about is how in love he is. He loves George's face. He loves George's character. He lives his person, his banter, his noises. Dream can't name a single thing he _doesn't_ love.

A low boiling fire grows in his stomach. He never wants it to leave. It pulls on Dream like a rope. One he can't cut or escape, yet... he doesn't want to. All he wants to do is let it wrap around him and pull him closer and closer, tighter and tighter, till he can never bear to let go. For leaving the rope would leave everything he now lived for.

Beads of sweat start to appear on George's forehead, some from the heat of the room and others from every muscle holding onto the edge of the tub for drear life. He can feel himself already about to cum from all the edging earlier.

Everything in George's body screams for more. He wants to feel everything; be as close to Dream as possible. He can already feel every sensation throughout his entire body- yet he craves more.

He pants, breath hitching when Dream lets out a deep moan, echoing off the walls as he thrusts faster, in and out of George, pulling down on his hips to help please the both of them with every sharp movement.

George moans, and his eyes roll back into his head.

"Fuck me slower," He mumbles, barely being able to form the words.

Dream whimpers and forces himself to stop. He lifts George's hips, pulling out until just his tip is left inside the boy, and holds him slightly suspended in the water right above his own hips. Then he pulls him down again and looks down, connecting his sight with George's eyes.

George is a mess, his hair askew and his cheeks red and hot. He looks slightly high, and his mouth hangs open as his head leans back against Dream's shoulder as far as it will go. George's hands are still reached up past his head, attached to the rim of the tub, and his body is arched as far as he can make it go.

Dream burrows his head in George's neck and rolls his hips strong but slowly against George's ass, pushing himself in and back out as slow as he can. It's almost painful how measured and unhurried he thrusts.

Both of them feel every move, every clench, every twitch, every muscle, as Dream fucks up into George with the utmost sedated intent.

Dream's dominant side has retreated. All he can do is moan into George's neck and whimper at the overwhelming pleasure he feels. His arms wrap around the smaller boy, and as he sucks harder in his neck, his hips roll slower and slower until all he can do is let out small, pitiful cries, muffled by George himself.

George, on the other hand, is in ecstasy. All his pain is gone, and with Dream's slow, deep thrusts, he somehow hits his prostate just barely each time.

The pace that Dream moves in is not intended for release but for the pure act of passion itself. Every breath seems deliberate, every moan purposeful.

They can't get enough, yet, it isn't enough at all.

Time seems to pick up again, and Dream starts to roll his hips faster, George groaning happily at the change in pace.

Desperate to help in any way he can, George back-thrusts his ass against Dream, perfectly matching every penetration and hitting his prostate square on.

They're both close now.

Dream goes faster, pulling his head out to try to form words, but all that manages to slip past his lips is a messy string of words, "You- unh- so good- fuck." And then it's right back into George's neck. He no longer even has the capacity to kiss him; just press his open mouth against his lover's skin and fuck him as hard as he possibly can.

George cries out and calls Dream's name.

Dream grips the sides of George as hard as he can, pounding in him, close to his own release.

"Fuck, Dream," It all George can get out as his dick twitches.

Almost as if everything perfectly aligns, they cum together, Dream thrusting a few more spaced out, quicker, harsher times before burring himself in George as far as he can go, and George letting himself go in the water.

Dream lets out a final moan into the nape of the brunette's neck and loosens his tight grip on George's hips.

"I really fucking love you," George says breathlessly.

Dream, still panting, chuckles and takes the opportunity to crack a joke.

"And I really love fucking you," He says into George's ear before kissing it.

"Fuck you," George giggles, a wide smile across his face as he looks at the ceiling, feeling the up and down of Dream's chest beneath him.

"Love you too," Dream says and leans down to kiss the boy's cheek.


End file.
